Wedding Doubts
by Loving Your Smile
Summary: But what if I'm not nervous? What if I'm in love with someone else? But of course, Rose didn't voice these thoughts aloud and instead nodded meekly at her mother.


Rose tentatively smiled at her reflection. The white dress was exactly what she had imagined, and she silently thanked her mother for secretly siphoning some of Dad's bowling money for the dress. Really, he didn't need that much money to go bowling, but it was his "extremely clever and secret" code-name for the few savings he hadn't put in the bank to use in case of emergencies. But besides all that, the dress fit Rose perfectly, hugging the right places and hanging in a more flattering way than her regular clothes did. It was a simple, strapless floor-length that had a large satiny blue sash tied in a bow in the back.

But the blue reminded her of her old school house, and school always reminded her of one person who she prayed wouldn't come to the wedding.

She gave her head a small shake and put on her best smile, evaluating her red updo of hair with a cock of her head. It looked elegant enough, and though she was not vain, she had to admit she looked beautiful. Her smile grew wider and she slipped on her white highheeled shoes. She didn't particularly like them, but they were hidden under the flowy hem of her dress. _He_ would have said they were ridiculous, like the things his mother would wear. But her fiance and soon to be husband would have said they looked perfect. Because, really, he was such a softie, whether he loved her or not. And sometimes, Rose liked a softie. They didn't make her have to think too hard. Granted, he wasn't the most interesting guy on the planet, but Rose believed she loved him (almost as much as she had loved _him_) and that was reason enough to say, "I do." And she was fairly certain he loved her, too, but one can never be sure about love, really.

"Rose?" Her mother walked into Rose's childhood bedroom.

"Hi, Mom," she whispered, as her mother came to stand beside her, smiling at her in the mirror.

"You look beautiful, Rosie." Her mother beamed, the small crow's feet by her eyes creasing as the smile lit her eyes.

Rose looked at herself, and then at her mother. She had imagined this day since she was in first year, though she'd always imagined a different boy cast as the groom. But that was in a different time, and she didn't need to think about it. Except... she did, because, she pleaded to herself, she still loved _him _and how could she marry someone else who she didn't love as much?

Her mother noticed Rose's eyebrows furrowing.

"What's wrong, dear?"

"Mum, I- I don't think I can do this," she confessed timidly, her head bowed in shame.

Hermione smiled sympathetically.

"We all get nervous, dear. On my wedding day, I was so nervous I nearly threw up before walking down the aisle. But trust me, as soon as you see him standing at the other end, the butterflies will go away."

_But what if I'm not nervous? What if I'm in love with someone else?_ But of course, Rose didn't voice these thoughts aloud and instead nodded meekly at her mother.

"Rosieeee!" a girl shrieked from the doorway. Rose recognized the voice immediately as Lily's.

"Hey, Lily."

"You. Look. Beeeeeeyooteeful!"

She was always just so _peppy_. "So do you, Lils! Gorgeous as always," Rose added, smiling broadly enough that her cheeks hurt.

Her other cousins came in too, oohing and ahhing and fixing their make up. Victoire and Teddy's little daughter, Rachelle, tugged on her mother's dress.

"Mummy, when do I get my flower basket?"

"Soon, love, soon."

"Mom, Auntie Rose looks like a princess."

Rose smiled at the pair, wondering if someday she'd be as blessed.

She cursed herself for the thought. Why had he made promises _he_ didn't intend on keeping? Her mind was filled with images of strawberry blond children for a moment, before her arm was jerked and she was shaken from her thoughts.

"Rosie, don't you think this flower would look just beeeyooteeful in Lucy's hair?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes, it's splendid. You should definitely wear it, Lucy." She grinned, but her mind was elsewhere.

Hermione came back to stand next to Rose. "Ladies!" she called, but the hubbub continued. "LADIES! Can we all go outside to take a picture?"

Rose smiled in gratitude at her mother, who kissed her cheek before leading the rest of the girls out the door.

She sat on her bed, which still had the snitch quilt on it that had been there even before the first time she left for Hogwarts. The rag-doll her grandma Molly had made her, Stacy, was propped up on the pillow. She took the small toy in her newly-manicured hands. (She hadn't known that getting married meant doing things you'd normally never have time for, such as getting mani-pedis, as Lily called them.)

"Stacy," she whispered to the doll that had heard all her secrets. "Stacy, I still love him. What do I do?" She waited a little bit as though for a reply. But the doll's stitched on eyes merely stared at the ceiling, and the embroidered mouth was still in its customary lopsided smile. ("The lopsidedness is for character," Grandma had said, when Rose had picked up the doll for the first time that Christmas morning.) It wasn't the last lopsided smile she'd seen, though it was certainly the sweetest.

But not the one she missed the most.

"Rose!" her mother called from the bottom of the stairs, as if she was late for dinner again because she was reading a particularly good book, like when she was younger. "Time to go, dear!"

"Coming, Mum!" she answered, gingerly resting the doll back on her bed. She smiled to herself, and decided to kiss the doll as she often had when she was a girl.

_Pop._

"You still have that old thing?"

She could recognize that voice anywhere.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered, not turning around, for fear she was hallucinating.

"Oh, you know, I like to look at the carpeting. I'm here to see you, you dolt."

She couldn't help but smile, and turned around.

He looked the same as he always did, always had. The same shaggy platinum hair (she imagined it would feel the same to run her fingers through as before) and the same gray eyes (she noticed they had subtle bags underneath them, though) and the same ridiculous smirk that had always marked him as a prat (but that she had only moments before wanted to see again). The only thing out of the ordinary, really, was the suit he was wearing. Not that he didn't wear suits, it was just, he had always hated them and only wore them when his father demanded it. That, and he was wearing a bow tie.

"Really, though. How'd you even hear?" Rose asked, one eyebrow raising.

"You're still as bright as always," Scorpius commented sarcastically. "Just because _we_ don't talk anymore doesn't mean I don't talk to Al."

_Stupid Albus having stupid friends._

She rolled her eyes. "Well, that's fine and dandy, but I've got a wedding to go to."

"What a coincidence. So do I."

"You weren't even invited!" she said playfully, but she couldn't miss the fleeting hurt in his eyes.

"How well I know."

They stared at each other for a moment. Could he really be here? He had been her number one; her first friend; her first kiss; her first time; her first love. No matter how often they fought, they couldn't forget that. Well, except for the last time. That was the time of never looking back, on his part.

"Did you really expect I would?"

"I'd have thought you would have just to spite me, really."

"But then I'd have to see you again."

"Well, that plan worked out nicely, wouldn't you agree?"

They drifted into another awkward silence, and Rose wished desperately that time would rewind, to that moment when they first kissed, or the moment when he told her he loved her, or at least back to a time when they were still friends.

"Scorp?"

"Yeah?"

"I... I still love you." She noticed him wince at the words, and wondered what he was feeling. She squeezed her eyes shut momentarily.

"Rose, please don't say that," he pleaded, his eyes focussed on her. "You're getting married."

"Scorpius, just tell me if you love me, too. I'll never be happy until I know."

"Rose, I'll always love you. And... I'm sorry."

Their eyes met again, his stormy grays to her earthy hazels.

"Please don't make me cry on my wedding day," she whispered, the tears already brimming in her eyes. And soon enough, his arms enveloped her, and she silently sobbed into his chest, trying not to let the tears spill, for Rose Weasley (soon to be nee Weasley, really) never cried, or at least, tried really hard not to.

Finally, she stepped back and took a deep breath.

"Your bow tie looks stupid," she commented breathily, calmer than before but still on the brink of tears. Why had she let Lily convince her into wearing all that make up? The mascara certainly wasn't waterproof, she knew. She'd seen Lily's streak down her face on a number of occasions that hadn't really seemed that important, anyways.

"Your shoes look stupid. My mum would wear them."

It was nice to know some things never changed.

She shot him a look and they walked out of the room together.

[break]

The wedding looked just as Rose had always imagined, with flowers spiraling around the marble columns and white chairs with big satiny blue bows tied around them and a bouquet that belonged in a magazine.

As the music played, Rose waited anxiously awaited, her ankles itching in the long, green grass. Her father's arm hooked with hers, they made the slow march down the grassy aisle that had quite recently been adorned in rose petals thrown in clumps on the ground.

Rose looked at the crowd, searching for that stupid shiny head. She half hoped she wouldn't see it, because if she did, she wasn't sure she would be able to walk past it.

But she did. Her breath hitched for a moment, and she stopped midstep. Her father gave her a funny look, nodding his head towards the end of the aisle where the groom and official were waiting.

She looked at her groom and returned his smile. The sniffling sound next to her told her that her father had decided to get emotional, and she half sighed as she stood next to her husband to be.

The official began with the same old speech: "We are gathered here today to celebrate in the union of Mr. Lysander Mimbletonia Scamander and Ms. Rose Jean Weasley..."

Rose looked out at all the guests, and finally, his head came into her line of vision. _Damn you, _she cursed in her head. He smirked at her, but the sadness was readable on his usually cold face.

"...through sickness and health, 'til death do you part?"

Lysander looked at Rose, who was still staring at the guests, and gave a halfhearted smile.

"I do."

Rose quickly looked back at the man who had just agreed to be her one and only, trying to forget all happy memories with _him_.

"And do you, Rose Jean Weasley, take Lysander Mimbletonia Scamander, to have and to hold..."

Rose was not sure that she wanted Lysander to be the only one to hold her, much less _have _him.

"...from this day forward..."

But today had been the first time she'd seen Scorpius in over a year! That wasn't fair, fate. In fact, that was just creul.

"...for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer..."

This too Rose couldn't see for her and Lysander. Sure, he was honest and sweet and nice to her and her family, but really? For _worse?_ What kind of sick people come up with these things?

And yet, she and Scorpius had seen just exactly what _worse _was, and they still loved each other.

"...through sickness and health, 'til death do you part?"

Rose froze.

Her eyes darted from Lysander to the official to her mother who was crying in happiness to her father who was pretending he wasn't crying, to Lily and Al and little Rachelle and finally, ever so slowly, to Scorpius.

And she said no.

The gasps from both sides of the wedding party were the background music as she darted from the altar, leaving behind a baffled almost-husband and an irritated official.

"Scorpius," she said as she stood at the end of his row. "Are you coming?"

He shot her a look that obviously said, "Are you fucking mental?" but quickly darted between people's legs 'til he had reached her.

"I wouldn't miss this."

And suddenly, he picked her up, holding her horizantal. She gasped in surprise but had no time to do anything but wrap his arms around his neck as he dashed away from the ceremony.

A flock of redheaded cousins chased after them.

"Get ready to Apparate," he whispered to her, and before she had time to take another breath, he had spun on his foot, and they were gone, together.

**A/N Whoo, I'm tired! That's the longest one-shot I've ever written... so... yeah! Hopefully you liked it! **

**Review, because it will help the starving children. **

**(Okay. It will help curb the author's appetite for reviews. But she is a starving child, in that sense!)**

**xx**

**Ali**


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